Drunk On You
by BerethNar
Summary: Something is wrong with Derek. It's nothing like Stiles expected.


When Stiles blinks himself awake after his phone starts ringing in the middle of the night, he already has a feeling that something is wrong. Possibly very, very, horribly wrong.

"Please, _please_ tell me no one's dead." Is his way of answering after he sees Scott's name on the screen.

"Stiles! Stiles, get over to Derek's_ right now_, I'm not kidding, this is an honest-to-God emergency! We're in the backyard and we- we don't know what to do anymore! Derek- he's… Shit, _shit_, Derek, let go of me, Der-" and then he's cut off by some muffled sound and the call disconnects.

"Scott? Scott?! _Fuck_." Well, to say that Stiles is scared shitless right now would be the understatement of the year.

Five minutes later he's in his jeep, driving up to the Hale house as fast as he can, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white. Something's wrong, something's wrong with _Derek_ and Stiles can't breathe. Derek, Erica and Boyd went to Reno in the morning to form a treaty with the local pack with which the Hales had never gotten along in the past and Stiles knew that it was more than likely for it to go wrong in so many ways, but he trusted Derek to make it work, he believed Derek _could_ make it work. And now… Now he thinks that maybe the negotiations didn't go so well at all. What if things went south and they hurt Derek so badly he became delusional from all the pain and went on a quest to dismember his betas? Stiles feels his hands start shaking, despite the tight grip, and his vision is getting blurry every few seconds until he blinks it away, but then it gets blurry again in no time, and he feels his chest become tighter and heavier with every breath he takes. No. NO. He has to get it together, he has to go to Derek, _he has to_.

When he reaches the familiar clearing in front of the burnt down house, he basically falls out of his jeep and runs around the house, stumbling over his own feet more times than he can count. When he's finally at the backyard, he halts to a stop. There's a bonfire in the middle of it, with the whole pack standing around it. Everyone's there, looking all fine- some of them look irritated, some look confused and Scott looks like he's just bathed in a puddle of mud, but still- they all look _fine_ and definitely not missing any body parts.

"Oh, thank God!" Scott lets out a relieved sigh and Stiles just looks around, panting, his heart thundering loud in his ears and then he turns his gaze back to Scott and here comes the word vomit.

"Dude, what the hell, what's wrong, did something happen to Derek, was it the pack from Reno, did they do something to him, oh my GOD would you please just say _somethin-_"

"Hey you." Suddenly there are strong arms around his waist pulling him close from behind and Derek's nose is buried in the spot between his neck and left shoulder, heaving in a long slow sniff.

"Hey- Jesus, don't _do that_, you creep, you're gonna give me a heart attack." Stiles flails a bit before settling his hands on top of Derek's while trying to tilt his head so he could see the werewolf, make sure that he's okay.

Suddenly Derek spins him around, somehow managing to keep Stiles so close it should have been impossible for him to even move, but, apparently, nothing is impossible for Derek Hale, and now there are warm lips on Stiles' and, oh, hello, tongue. Which is all kinds of nice, but also- _weird_, as he realizes once the fear for Derek's well-being is gone and Stiles' brain starts to work again. Usually Derek won't even so much as peck Stiles on the cheek when they're around others and now there are hands under his shirt and tongue in his mouth and Stiles has never been so very much aware that there are actual people (and werewolves. People and werewolves. Whatever, details) not two feet away from them so he quickly opens his eyes and tries to pull away as far as he can, which isn't that far at all.

"Hey, hey, woah, slow down there, dude, what's gotten into you?" He asks, head spinning a little and his breath uneven. Yeah, being kissed by a super hot werewolf will do that to you.

Derek just grins at him stupidly, like he's in some sort of haze or something, his bleary eyes set on Stiles' mouth and then he just buries his face in Stiles' neck and, oh. _Oh_. Now there's biting. Biting and _licking_. Stiles lets out a small whine and normally he wouldn't be one to complain about this, but then again- _people_. Seriously, this is getting really intense, really fast and Stiles can already feel the oh-so-familiar tightness in his pants and o_hmyGOD _did Derek just _grind_ against him and then _chuckle_?! Honestly, what the hell, it's almost like Derek is…

"Oh my God, are you _drunk_?!" Stiles shouts incredulously.

"Drunk on _you_." Derek lifts his head to once again look at Stiles' lips and he actually _brushes his fingertip against the tip of Stiles' nose_ on the 'you'.

"Oh my God. OH MY GOD." Is all the teen can manage. He would laugh his ass off if this was happening to someone else, but he can't help but feel mortified since this is happening to _him_. No. No no no, this can't possibly be happening right now. Werewolves _can't_ even get drunk, what the _hell_?

Not knowing what to do anymore, Stiles turns his head, hoping to get some kind of an explanation from his packmates, who apparently are quite amused by the situation. Erica, Lydia and Allison all have their hands clasped over their mouths and their shoulders are silently shaking with laughter, while Isaac has this smug smirk on his face and Boyd is deliberately looking anywhere else but at them, smiling tightly and obviously trying to opress a grin. And then there's Scott who looks like he would much rather be literally anywhere else but here right now. Stiles kind of starts to share the sentiment when he realizes that Derek is back to his neck again, sucking an undoubtedly obnoxious hickey on his skin. He has to gather all of his strength not to moan loudly and he almost succeeds. Almost.

"Seriously, guys, what the _hell_, how is this even possible, what did you _do_ to him?" He manages to get out between gasps and honestly, this is rapidly heading towards new levels of embarrassing, even for him.

"Oh, we didn't do anything." Isaac says with the same shameful smirk. "This is all thanks to a little parting gift from the pack in Reno."

"What." He gapes. That doesn't even sound like a question. At this point, Stiles is barely able to focus on anything that isn't Derek's mouth on him, so the fact that he even manages to make a word come out of his own mouth is victory enough.

"Yeah, well," Boyd says, staring at the sky like it holds all the secrets to the universe, "it's customary to exchange parting gifts after a successful treaty has been formed between two packs. "

"And seeing as we are basically a bunch of teenagers- werewolf, but still, teenagers- who love to have a good time," Erica continues with a full-blown grin, "they gave us a bottle with some sort of a rare drink mixed with a kind of wolfsbane which supposedly affects werewolves the same way as alcohol affects humans."

"We were planning on trying it out tomorrow and of course Derek went all alpha on us, going on about how this could be dangerous and how we can't be sure about what kind of effect it'll have on us." Jackson says, rolling his eyes. And wow, the way they all finish what the other has started to say is a whole new level of creepy. Stiles' life, _seriously_.

"But then I had a word with him and he agreed to think about letting us drink it after he'd tried a small amount himself first." Lydia chimes in, absentmindedly curling her hair around her fingers.

"He drank like half a glass an hour ago and went all giggly and flail-y almost instantly, knocked the bottle over, spilling _everything _and then he was running around, tackling us all to the ground and yelling "YOU'RE IT" for the past thirty minutes and then you showed up and now _this_ is happening." Scott says, with an expression which offers that even looking at Derek and Stiles right now is causing him physical pain.

Stiles feels Derek huff out a laugh against his skin and then he starts pressing kisses up Stiles' neck.

"Yeah. This is so happening." He says after shortly brushing his lips against Stiles'. "I hear sex is fantastic when you're high on something."

"OH MY GOD YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT." The teen whines, his eyes going wide and his face turning red at the werewolf's words. No one tries to hold in their laughter anymore after this. Stiles can't really blame them.

Derek just smirks as he lets him go and starts walking towards the house, giving him a kind of look that Stiles has only seen two times before and both of those times he ended up having mind-blowingly amazing sex, so excuse him if after seeing that look, all of his shame goes down the drain in an instant. Let it be known that Stiles is a lot of things, but he is definitely not stupid, so he just shrugs, grins back and runs to catch up with his boyfriend.

He hears Erica's "oh yeah!" and a whistle from Isaac as he slips his hand into Derek's and then there's the distant sound of Scott's whining when Derek scoops him from the ground, kissing him again and Stiles wraps his legs around the werewolf's waist and grins stupidly into the kiss while making a mental note to find out what kind of wolfsbane this is and see if Deaton could hook him up with some. He could totally deal with emergencies like this more often.


End file.
